


Not This Part Of Town

by Cueyatl



Series: Soulmates AUs Collection (Multiple Fandoms) [4]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bus, Discrimination, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8790280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cueyatl/pseuds/Cueyatl
Summary: Life isn't easy for Katara - for anyone from a Water Tribe, actually. Despite all the protesting and fighting, Water Tribe Men and Women still live under the discriminative laws of the Fire Nation. So really, she should be allowed to glare furiously as much as she wants at all those opressive bastards occupying all the seats in the bus because they have priority while making her 70 years old grandma stand the whole journey. [Soulmates AU: Words you will speak at the same time as your soulmate written on your skin for Water Tribe; other kind of Marks for other Nations.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Soulmates AU #4
> 
> Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender
> 
> Pairing: Zuko/Katara (Zutara)
> 
> Type of Soulmates Universe: Different kinds of soulmates mark, depending on Nation. In Katara's case, words she and her soulmate will say at the same time. 
> 
> As always, all critics welcomed, especially regarding grammar and spelling.

Katara helped her grandmother up the last step before having a look around. She almost swore, but contained herself. All the seats were taken, and they had quite a journey before reaching their stop. She glanced at her grandmother, brave and strong, but whose legs were now too old to keep her up for so long. 

Damn Fire Nation. She already knew what she would be ranting about at the next ERWT meeting. She had been attending the Equal Rights for Water Tribes meetings for the last three years, ever since she was eighteen. She had been in protests, had signed numerous petitions, and joined more than one rally. But it never seemed to be enough. Even after all their hard work, the Fire Nation kept oppressing them. They still had priority in shops. They were still preferred in jobs interviews, and paid more for the same jobs. The law still said black on white that the seats in public transports were for them first, and for elderly Water Tribe women second. 

Katara was seething as she looked at all the Fire Nation men and women in the bus, all sitting comfortably. Damn it. Damn _them_. All of them. The forty-something man reading his newspaper, the mother with her two brats, the three teenagers laughing loudly. They all thought they were somehow better than her or her grandmother, but they weren’t. They were all scum. That girl with the horrible haircut and her book looked like she was the bitchiest of bitch. That guy with grey hair and a purple suit looked like a ridiculous movie character in a film about failure in business. And she hopped that young guy playing games on his DS was losing – she hoped the ugly scar disfiguring him on half his face was making it hard for him to win. 

Her grandmother’s fingers gripped tighter on her arm. Katara looked at her, her eyes softening for a second. Her grandmother was putting on a brave face, but she knew the journey would be heavy on her. Katara felt a wave of affection for her. After all, it was to accompany her granddaughter that she was now in this situation. 

Katara being a hopeless romantic (between the Rights for Women meeting and the ERWT meeting), she had always been fascinated by her Soul Mark. Like all Water Tribe men and women, she was born with a string of words on her arm. Fragments of sentences that her and her Soulmates would someday say together, in perfect harmony. It was so romantic! Love! Destiny! She just couldn’t wait. So she went in all Soul Mark Registries to put herself on file, hoping her words would match someone already in the files. And her kind grandmother going with her, to help with the disappointment every time it failed.

Her grandmother seemed to guess what was on her mind. She smiled softly.

“Don’t worry Katara,” she said softly, squeezing her arm in reassurance, “I’m sure we’ll find him next time. He can’t avoid you forever,” she winked and Katara smiled. 

She glanced down at her wrist, where she knew the words to be written, hidden under a large wooden bracelet. _Are you okay? Are you hurt?_ It said. She really hoped what came after that was “Yes I’m fine, don’t worry”. 

It was actually the main reason why she was trying to find her Soulmate through agencies and registries. Ever since the Soul Marks Registries had begun, there were two way for the meeting with your Soulmate to go. The first one was the traditional one. Fate made you meet them, and somehow you found yourself saying that one sentence in context. The second one was the through the Registry. There were several Registries to which they could go. Once there, they would give their sentence to the person in charge, who would first check the sentence was not already registered. If not, they wrote it down, in alphabetical order. If two sentences matched, they would contact both soulmates and arrange a meeting between them. All the soulmates had to do was then to say the sentence together, all contexts forgotten.

And Katara would rather forget a context that needed to say “Are you hurt?”.

The bus took an abrupt turn and Katara felt her grandmother waver. She almost fell on a lady seating near them. The woman sneered at them, disgust written all over her face. The young man – the one with the scar – who was in the seat next to hers swore. Obviously it had made him loose his game. Katara managed to hold back a victorious smirk, but just barely. Scar-guy sighed and stretched. In doing so, his eyes fell on them. He completely ignored Katara but his eyes widened at her grandmother. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said precipitately, “do you want to…” he gestured vaguely at his seat, which he had already half risen from.

Katara looked at him like he was insane, frozen in shock. Her grandmother however, simply looked delighted.

“Thank you, young man,” she said, sitting with some small difficulty. The lady next to her looked at Scar-guy accusingly, clearly not appreciating having to seat next to Water Tribe scum. He didn’t seem to notice. He was already back in his game, leaning against the closed doors. The rest of the bus did not seem to notice or mind. 

Katara supposed she ought to say ‘thank you’ too, but the words stayed stuck in her throat. She could feel her resentment and hatred for all Fire Nation people blocking them there. So she said nothing, just stood awkwardly next to her grandmother, trying not to stare at the guy – or his scar.

Alright – at the very least, she didn’t want his scar to hurt him anymore. She was even ready to admit that passing judgment thus and wishing hurt on someone she did not know had been childish and cruel. There. That was as good as thanking him, right? Especially coming from her. Maybe she would even mention his good behavior at the next meeting, just to make a small point, like “some of them actually have some manners and common sense, even though they’re a minority”. 

The bus stopped three times; two people got out, two came in. The number of seats being agreeable to everyone, no conflict arose. On the fifth stop however, a man in his forties with a ridicule beard got on and no one got off. He looked around for a seat and his eyes fell on her grandmother. He smiled happily, as if the seat was already as good as empty. He looked pointedly at her until she finally noticed him. Katara had to restrain herself from strangling the man. 

Her grandmother sighed and painfully got up. The second she was up, Scar-guy had slumped back on his seat like nothing had happened. Beard-guy frowned, but said nothing – fair was fair. Scar-guy had as much right to the seat as he did. Instead, he went to stand a little farther away. Katara guessed she preferred it that way. Between Beard-guy and Scar-guy, she’d rather Scar-guy got the seat. 

For maybe half a minute, he played his game. Then, with an air of surprised that would not fool anybody (and was not trying to) but was smooth and well-acted none-the-less, he pretended to notice Gran-Gran for the first time.

“Oh, I’m sorry” he said, “do you want to…?” The words and hand gestures were the same, but the tone was not. The first time, he had been surprised and eager, if a bit clumsy. This time, his voice was controlled and self-assured. 

Katara looked at her grandmother, at loss, but she looked just as confused.

“Well,” Gran-Gran stammered, “yes, thank you, young man.”

Scar-guy got up again, and her grandmother sat down, still looking as bewildered as Katara felt herself. Beard-guy frowned, opened his mouth but closed it without speaking. She suddenly understood that to come over here and challenge her grandmother for her seat would pretty much be seen as stealing Scar-guy’s seat quite disloyally. She turned to Scar-guy, feeling like she should say something this time, but he was already back to his game, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around him. She could even tell he was getting angry at it, staring at the screen like he could set it on fire. 

The journey carried on in a similar fashion. Every time someone would try to take Gran-Gran’s seat, Scar-guy would take it and then hand it back again to her. Eventually, there were less and less people on the bus, as they neared the Water Tribe District. For one station, they were even the only three passengers. 

And then the bus started to fill itself with Water Tribe men and women. That is when Katara realized the guy was still on board. Why? There were no Fire Nation districts after that point. It was all Water Tribe reserves, Earth Kingdom immigrants and Air Nomad Temples falling to ruins. Why was he still here? 

The bus kept getting fuller and fuller, and Katara felt more and more uncomfortable. Usually, she felt better and better as she saw more and more of her fellow Tribe members. But now she couldn’t help but glance at Scar-guy who was still standing and still playing his game like nothing was out of the ordinary. Around him, everyone was staring at him with hatred and disdain. 

It was the same way, she realized suddenly, Grand-Gran and her had been looked at when they had first gotten on the bus, with Scar-guy, still oblivious, the only person standing.

The road became bumpier as they were now deep in Water Tribe East District. Renovating the road of the “minority districts” had, strangely, never been a priority for Fire Nation leaders. 

One particularly violent bump made almost everyone jump on their seat and almost sent Scar-guy flying. He half-fell on Gran-Gran before managing to hold on and straighten himself. Immediately Katara went to her grandmother to make sure she was fine, at the same time Scar-guy was apologizing and checking he hadn’t hurt her.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” they ended up blurting at the same time. 

Katara froze in place. 

_No way_.

She looked at Scar-guy who was still apologizing while her grandmother assured him she was perfectly alright. Katara was woken from her state of shock by a sudden threatening presence. She looked around and saw that several persons – mostly men and women with ERWT pins on their clothes – had risen and approached them. She was ready for a fight but then realized she wasn’t in any danger. No, the danger was for Scar-guy.

Water Tribe members did not like Fire Nation people most of the times. It was even worst when said Fire Nation people tried to come to the Water Tribe Districts, which they often took as an attack. Understandable, as it was the only place they were free from “discriminations”. It was bad enough out there, no need to come oppress them all the way to their home. So obviously, Scar-guy’s presence in the bus had been most unwelcome. It had been like a fire begging to get started. Scar-guy falling on – and probably hurting, the impudence of that Fire Nation scum! – a poor elderly defenseless oppressed woman had been the spark needed. 

“I think this is your stop, friend,” a man tall man said in a low all-but-friendly voice. 

“Huh?” Scar-guy looked at him in surprise. Brows frowned; he went to the window and looked outside. The bus was about to arrive at “Chief Patlark Stop”. Scar-guy shook his head. “No, I’m getting off at “Crossroad”, that’s three stops away.”

“And you’d like to walk there,” another guy insisted.

Now Scar-guy had picked up the mood. His shoulders tensed, his fists tightened. His eyes were now two thin lines. With his angry scowl and the burnt mark on his face, he looked just as threatening as the guy, despite him being at least a head taller than him. Katara was quite shocked by the change in him. So far, he had looked a bit naïve and clumsy, someone who would trip on his feet and stumble on his words. Now he looked like the stereotypical angry violent Fire Nation delinquent. Which did not help his case at all. 

“No, I’d much rather take the bus. I’d get lost on foot,” he said. 

“Too bad, then,” one the youngest of the lot said, a young man with messy brown hair and a straw between his lips. 

“I’m sure you can manage to ignore my presence for three more stations,” Scar-guy said, dropping the pretense and addressing the issue head-on. 

Katara didn’t know what to do. Any other day she would have helped them kick him out of the bus. And if her grandmother had not been here, Katara would have tried to calm everyone. But she was here and Katara did not want to risk her being hurt. So she just stood there and watched as the doors opened and Scar-guy was thrown-out _manu military_. Next to her, Gran-Gran was watching with the same mild worry on her face.

“You okay, mam’?” one of the guy asked, as the shouting and fist-raising silhouette of Scar-guy was getting smaller and smaller outside the window. Katara winced. He was now in the middle of Water Tribe District after being forced out of a bus. This was not going to end well for him.

“The nerve of those people, am I right?” Straw-guy asked her with a smile.

“Huh?” Katara realized she was being talked to. 

“Fire Nation,” he clarified. “I’m Jet by the way. I can’t believe some of them actually have the guts to come here.”

Katara just blinked at him. She was trying to use her anger to silence the small voice in her head whispering to her that not twenty-four hours ago, she would have said the same. Jet winked at her.

“I see you’re a member of the ERWT”, he said, pointing at the pin on her bag. “Honorable fight,” he praised. 

“You’re not Water Tribe”, she said with the most even voice she could manage. That was neutral enough, right?

“No,” he admitted, “but I’ve been oppressed enough by the Fire Nation to sympathize. I can recognize a just cause when I see one, and fighting the Fire Nation is the most just of them all. Do you go to meetings?”

“Yes.”

“Rallies? Protests?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great. Say, I’m part of the Fight for Freedom. It’s an organization trying to get the power back to the people who deserve it – that is, anyone who isn’t Fire Nation – and we meet up every Monday evening. Would you be interested?”

“Well,” Katara said, uncertain (she hated him, but that didn’t mean she hated the movement he was part of), “I don’t know. What do you do at those meetings?”

“Katara!” Gran-Gran suddenly snapped. “Have you no shame?”

“Gran-Gran?”

“That young punk here and the brutes he has for friends…” With a hand she gestured at the men who had gathered to toss Scar-guy out.

“We’re not friends,” Jet twitched. 

“… threw out of this bus for no other reason than they could,” Gran-Gran carried on, ignoring him, “a perfectly decent young man, just because he was different. And you’re going to make friendly chat with this bully?”

“A decent young man?” Jet’s jaw dropped. “Has old age altered your eye-sight, grandma? He was Fire nation!”

“We did this to help you, old woman!” one of the guys protested.

“Oh please,” Gran-Gran sneered, not impressed in the least. “He fell by accident and you know it. You were just looking for an excuse. I’ll have you know this young man gave me his seat from the moment he saw me on the bus, back in the middle of Fire Nation districts, and has defended me against anyone who dared take it from me even since. I cannot believe this is how he was repaid for his kindness! I have never been so ashamed of my people. Now I believe this our stop, Katara.” She got up to his feet, grabbing Katara’s arm, and made her way for the door. 

As soon as she was off the bus, Gran-Gran turned to her granddaughter. 

“That young man said your words,” she said in a grave tone. Katara couldn’t guess if it was because of the seriousness of the situation or because she was still full of reproach. 

“I know,” she said, “but he didn’t react.” He hadn’t even blinked at her. He had ignored her. Who did that? _Fire Nation people_ , a spiteful voice in a corner of her mind said. _Helping an old woman is one thing, but having a Water Tribe savage as a Soulmate is entirely different. Shameful._

“Katara, _oh Katara_ ,” Gran-Gran shook her head affectionately. They started walking home. “I would have thought someone as involved in Soulmates as you knew.”

“Knew what?” 

“All nations have different Marks. Don’t you remember that boy you had a crush on in elementary school?”

“Who, Aang?” she asked, cheeks burning up.

“Yes, him. He was an Air Nomad, wasn’t he? Which meant his Soulmark was a compass pointing him in the right direction. And that guy you went out with, four years ago? With the ridiculous moustache?”

“Haru? His moustache was _not_ ridiculous!” she protested weekly.

“He was from the Earth Kingdom. Therefore, his words were the first his Soulmates would say to him.”

“I knew all that,” Katara admitted. “It’s just… I guess I’ve never thought about what Marks the Fire Nation citizens had, so I just… forgot…that they had different ones…”

Gran-Gran nodded. She let go of her arm to allow her to look for her keys in her bag. 

“So what do they have?” she asked.

“A mark.”

“Yes, but what Mark?”

“I meant it’s a mark – a drawing, a symbol. A clue, of some sort.”

“Oh. So if that guy was really…. You know… What does he have to symbolize me?”

“That, my dear, I cannot tell you. Now, come on. We have a dinner to prepare.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. Pakku is coming for dinner.”

“ _Ooooooh_ ,” Katara laughed. 

Her grandmother had once been engaged to Pakku, many years ago. In those times, those who were born into noble families were seldom married to their Soulmate. They were quickly engaged by their families so that when they finally met their fated love, it was already too late. Her grandmother had already been engaged when she had met Katara’s grandfather. By law and tradition, it was already too late. She was already promised. Had she not been, she could have been allowed to marry him even without her parent’s approval, as she was, in a sort, already promised to him since birth. 

But she was already promised to Pakku. Rather than to bow down and accept her fate, she had kidnapped her one true love and ran away with him unconscious and in bindings. They had fled until they reached a part of the world that had never heard of them and gotten married. It had taken twenty years for anyone to find them. By then, they already had a daughter, three dogs and a tortoise. 

A few years ago, however, she had run into Pakku – now an old man too – by pure chance, in the market place. She was a widow and so was he. Both their Soulmates had been taken from them by old age. They had started talking, remembering the old times, and sharing life stories. And now, they had decided to give their story a go, after a sixty-years-long pause. 

Smiling to herself, Katara helped her prepare her specialty. After a while, she urged her to go prepare herself and make herself pretty, arguing that she could finish alone. She wanted her grandmother to be ready in time.

It turned out, however, that this precaution was unnecessary, as Pakku was half-an-hour late. 

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, taking his coat off. “I had an appointment with Iroh today, but something came up.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope?” Gran-Gran asked. At their age, health problems were a constant fear. 

Katara was listening intensively, as she always did when Iroh came up, but even more so today. Usually, it would be in distaste, since she did not approve of befriending a Fire Nation man, even if he was a friendly game-playing tea-drinking old man. Now, in light of recent events, she felt more charitable – and even a tiny bit curious. 

“Well, Iroh himself is sick, he couldn’t come. So he sent his nephew, Zuko.”

“Was he a problem?” Gran-Gran inquired. 

“No. He’s young, reckless and quick-tempered. He’s got fire inside. But he’s a good kid. Caring, helpful. Wants to do right by everyone. A bit too much, sometimes. Kid wants his dad’s approval more than anything, but Ozai is a real bastard. Only things he can love is power and himself. I wouldn’t be surprised if his Soulmark was for himself.”

At the mention of Soulmarks, Katara felt herself redden. 

“But no, the kid is no problem. He was mostly raised by Iroh and takes after his mother. His sister is a real piece of work but him, no. He was fine with taking his uncle’s place today. He had always wanted to see our districts. He’s a curious kid.”

“And what did he think of our little side of the road?” Gran-grand asked as they took their place around the table.

“Interesting, fascinating even, but not very welcoming. He got thrown off a bus by some guys three stations early. Then he asked for directions –and as you’d expect, got pointed in the wrong ones until he finally reached a police station. They were more helpful there – probably didn’t dare officially misdirecting a Fire Nation citizen. In the end, he was an hour late. Again, I’m sorry.”

Katara and her grandmother were now staring at him.

“That young man,” Gran-Gran asked carefully, eyeing Katara, “he wouldn’t happen to be tall, with a burn-scar on his face?”

“Why yes,” Pakku was taken aback, “do you know him?”

“Not really,” Katara answered. “But we were on the bus with him. He let Gran-Gran have his seat.”

“Yes, I’m not surprised. You know, Katara, you should meet him sometimes. He might be the one to make you see not all Fire Nation are monsters. What do you say?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” she said. Pakku almost choke. 

“Really?”

He had been trying to convince Katara to have open discussions with Fire Nation people for years, with little success.

“Yes, really,” Katara smiled. “You wouldn’t happen to have his phone number by any chance?”


End file.
